Crossfires
by giannoula
Summary: Two months post ToP. What starts off as a series of random criminals turning up dead turns into a game of cat and mouse, as the Pride Troopers find themselves stalked by an enemy who - according to all records - doesn't even exist, yet seems to know everything about them. Is this a lone wolf act or something even more sinister in store for our heroes and their city?
1. Prologue

**Summary:** Two months post ToP. What started off as a prison riot turns into a game of cat and mouse, as the Pride Troopers find themselves stalked by an enemy who - according to all records - doesn't even exist, yet seems to know everything about them. Is this a lone wolf act or something even more sinister in store for our heroes?

 **A/N** : My first DB fic ayyyy. Please be gentle with me you guys. I was somewhat shamelessly inspired by Arkham Knight and Captain America: The Winter Soldier. But I, of course, own nothing save for my OCs.

…

* * *

Kohlrabi considered himself to be the luckiest man alive in all the galaxy.

No, better. Maybe all of the universe. Or dare he say it, the multiverse itself. Why, you may ask? What luck he'd had one particular day, with a one in one million chance, just about proved his point. Two months back during that big galactic tournament - whatever that was about, he didn't pay attention to anything that didn't revolve specifically around him - the best of the best of those goody two shoes Pride Troopers were gone for that specific period of time. With those ten gone, his prison cell might as well have been left unguarded with the door wide open.

In under the span of a half an hour, he'd managed to break free and gotten halfway there to the homerun when the guards were alerted. And then that's when things got weird; everything got all bright and fuzzy, himself included, and in the blink of an eye there was nothingness.

Before he knew it - _bam._ Right back at that spot but with no guards to be seen.

Since then he'd been on the run, laying relatively low on the radar as best as he could. After all, he didn't have any plans to do something stupid and get himself thrown right back at his cell to serve those consecutive life sentences. He had a life to live, thank you very much. And a damn good one at that, so long as he just kept his mouth shut and head down. In time he figured he'd be forgotten about on that wanted list. After all, there were plenty of new faces showing up everyday trying to have their five seconds of spotlight thinking they were gonna get strike fear into civilians' hearts or even get a lucky recruitment into Owl's Turf.

Oh. A chill just ran down his spine thinking about that guy. Another fellow inmate serving multiple life sentences, that guy was _nuts._ And that was just about the nicest thing there was to say about him. An intergalactic ganglord with a notorious temper, known to easily fly off the handle over the simplest things and champion grudge holder, it was any wonder how he had functional leadership skills. Or more importantly, how someone like Kohlrabi himself could even be compared to that psychopath to end up serving in the same facility.

After all, he'd only killed his successful co-worker; and then went home pretending to be said co-worker before killing that guy's family. Everybody makes mistakes, don't they?

Granted, there was that second time as well where he did the same thing but to the cop who arrested him after breaking out of prison the first time.

Come to think of it, maybe he really did earn that title of Copycat Killer after all. But if you asked him about, he was only using essential gifts that his chameleon-like species had to help with the semi-perfect crimes. Thanks to his skills, he could pretend to be almost anyone. He could blend in a crowd and disappear temporarily when need be, something which he was beginning to consider doing as he turned down another alleyway path.

Normally, one might say that alleyways are death traps - the start of tragic superhero origin stories or some cheesy nonsense like that - but that's only if you're a doofus running around with your wallet out in the open. Kohlrabi considered himself a smart man, a streets-smart man at that. With his hooded attire and hands in his pockets, so long as he kept his head low and pace normal, none of the homeless freaks hanging by the dumpster fires would look twice at him.

Except he couldn't help but shake this aching suspicion that there was a pair of eyes glued on his back.

With his eyes capable of darting around in every direction, he subtly searched every possible corner and angle with nothing out of the ordinary spotted. Suddenly, Kohlrabi was started scare himself, as every shadow seemed to resemble a figure and every random noise was suspicious. He took slow, cautious steps at first before picking up his pace to a brisk dart with footsteps moving as lightly as possible.

 _C'mon, c'mon._ He thought urgently to himself, beads of sweat beginning to form at his forehead. _I'm so close to Metabala, I'm practically there! Don't tell me there's a copper onto me now._

There was the sudden sound of cans scattering to the floor. Kohlrabi, despite every previous urge fighting to do so beforehand, jumped and turned around suddenly. But there was nothing there nor any evidence something had ever been there to begin with. There was only that garbage disposal - which likely hadn't been emptied in years - and the pile of cans by it that had fallen over. Probably the act of the wind.

 _No you idiot!_ Kohlrabi shook his head feverently. _Never say that! It's never the wind! You've just jinxed yourself!_

With his back still turned in the opposite direction, this time he'd heard another rattling noise from behind. He turned once more, with his stance beginning to shake. Evasive actions, however unsightly they appeared, were beginning to look like the right option for him. If his suspicions proved true and he was being followed, he'd sure as hell like to see what his stalker would do after this next move.

Kohlrabi darted towards the nearest wall and began to climb it upwards with seamless effort, yet another skill his species was gifted with. And, it should be noted, one he became particularly talented with during his time spent in prison. After all, the best way to avoid a prison fight in the cafeteria was to head straight for the ceiling to watch the chaos from below.

He was nearly there at the top, one hand gripping the flat rooftop panel of the building, when he felt the crushing weight of something atop it. He let out a shriek in shock, his entire body spazzing out in a split second. The instantaneous pain flashed right through him from his arm and he promptly lost his grip, falling to his apparent doom below.

But such a fall like this, even from great proportions of this height, wouldn't be enough to kill the likes of Kohlrabi though. Granted, it'd hurt his spine like a bitch. But his skeletal framework was something like rubber, he was relatively flexible and durable in handling a hit like this. Sure enough, he landed right on his back on the dirtied, unforgiving pavement ground.

Laying there for a few moments or so, he opened his eyes to a dizzying field of vision. There was a shadowy object from the distance, right at the rooftop where he'd been moments before. It jumped down suddenly with such grace, like watching a little fly take off.

Except the landing was a rude awakening to his dazed bliss, because the weight of it was right beside him. Once more, there was the weight of that crushing boot. Except this time it was on his chest.

Kohlrabi shrieked in spasms, sputtering and gasping for air as the weight pressed further down. His slimy hands gripped at the ankle of this individual, noting that he could feel the cold surface of metal - armor, perhaps? - as opposed to a normal leg. Any attempts at wiggling to break free proved fruitless. Here he laid, caught and pinned helplessly to the floor. But by who?

He squinted his eyes as his vision gradually cleared. At first, he could only make out colors; red stuck out for sure, but it also became clear that he didn't just blend in with the night, he was indeed wearing black. Red and black. Now where had he seen that combination before? _No way._

"Alright Spandex Squad - " Not even being pinned down roughly seemed to deter his arrogance. He coughed out the insult, his vision still reworking itself but still pretty damn sure he was dealing with the clutches of a trooper. "Gigs up. Ya don't gotta manhandle me like this!"

Silence. The weight pressing done on him was unrelenting, and by now he was pretty sure it was worsening. His chest felt constricted, every part of his body still aching from that graceless fall. What was with this silent treatment? Did he catch one of them on a bad night and this was the ol' good cop bad cop treatment but starting in reverse.

"Come on, this ain't f- funny! Just cuff me already and cart me off!" he coughed once more, fist lightly and uselessly hitting up against the calf. It was a pitiful act, doubtful that the individual even felt that. His legs curled upwards and he summoned whatever strength from within to continue being a squirming nuisance.

It was only then did his vision clear up properly, and Kohlrabi realized that the colors of this individual's suit were inverted from the normal Pride Trooper's; the majority was black and the centerpiece was red. It was also far more intricately designed like armor as opposed to spandex. There was no face staring down at him. Only a blank, black mask with a shining reflection and eyehole slits where golden light emerged. No emotion, no expression. Only a slight cock of the head as if inspecting Kohlrabi right down to his very soul.

"Y- Y- You…. you ain't a Pride Trooper!" he shivered, feeling himself shrink inwards ever so slightly. Shit shit shit. What was this supposed to be? An upgrade? Maybe it wasn't even a person, maybe it was one of those killer robots who hunt people down for sports like that movie he saw.

"Nope," the blank, affirmative reply. The voice was distorted from the mask, as though there was a cybernetic enhancement, but it was distinctly masculine. "Even better."

That last line had a twinge of excitement to it. Like one of those fanatics who idolized the Troopers so much he decides to play dress-up. _Well kid,_ Kohlrabi would have liked to say if this were any other situation besides a life threatening one. _Tone down the edge and fear, start monologuing about how justice is coming for my ass, and you'll have me sold that you're one of 'em._

Instead, that hypothetical conversation never came to light.

With one hand alone, this imposing individual grabbed ahold of Kohlrabi's neck and lifted him up in the air until his legs were left dangling pathetically. Once, maybe twice he'd tried kicking at this individual to no effect. Now he clutched desperately onto the wrist and holding on to what little breath he had left.

"I'll spare you a speech about the heroics, if that's what you're worried about." The masked figure remarked, still with that hint of amusement in tone. There was another brief pause. The figure raise his free hand to the side of his head, hitting it lightly as if suddenly remembering. " _Tsk tsk._ How rude of me; no introduction. Just straight to the business."

Good to know that even this fella has a basic conception of manners. No one likes being strangled by a stranger after all, or so Kohlrabi still managed to create a sarcastic thought as he was being deprived of oxygen.

"So I'm new, _but_ you could say I'm familiar with this town." With a nonchalant wave of his free hand, one would think based on his tone that this was a casual conversation. The way he even dragged some of his words sounded humorous with the technical distortion from his mask. But his grip was unrelenting, crushing the chameleon-like creature's windpipe with every passing second. "I'm also familiar with this broken system that monsters and freaks like you take advantage of; the Pride Troopers catch you, but you guys break free. Over and over it's a system that people suffer from. And the people are sick of it."

Kohlrabi's lungs were aching, starved for air. Strength had all but left him entirely from his depleted, exhausted body. The hold on the figure's wrists loosened, and then his arms dropped entirely. But he was still alive long enough to hear that last phrase.

"When people cry out in the night 'cause they're cornered from criminals like you, they won't need to wait on the Pride Troopers anymore. They bring temporary resolutions; _I_ am a revolution. I am Nightcaller."

And with that, Nightcaller's grip tightened; the telltale, sickening crunch a confirmation that the condition of Kohlrabi's throat was all but decimated. Thus, ending the short-lived legacy of the Copycat Killer long before he could he make it third time's the charm on his victim record. Without even sparing the lifeless body a second glance, he tossed it in the direction of the nearby garbage bin where it crash landed up against. _Right where it belongs._

There was, however, still some work to do.

. . .

* * *

The night was still young by the time he'd finished his latest display.

Now nothing more could be done. That is, until morning comes and his finest work would be inevitably discovered by someone. The question remained as to who. The odds were weighed against one another in an internal bet, though he had a feeling as to who would find it first.

His train of thought was interrupted by a beeping comm link. Glancing at the device on his wrist, he wordlessly turned it off mid-ring. There would be consequences to that little defiant act, but he was more than willing to pay for it later. He wasn't feeling particularly sociable to report just yet, now was a time to just take in the sight for it was.

From the rooftop where he was standing - in a different location far from where he'd been mere hours earlier - the main city of Netfiss was astonishingly beautiful; a lively and nocturnal place, bustling with activities and gleaming, glittering lights from the various towers. It was an opportunistic place for success. It was home to many, the Pride Troopers included.

By the time he was done with it, it'd be in ruins.

Petty criminals and even vile fiends such as Kohlrabi were merely the beginning. They were just opening statements, time-killers when the days building up to the main event were far too slow. They were, what he would describe was, tying up loose ends. Or maybe it could be thought of as doing everyone a favor wherein the justice system had failed to do so. After all, it was doubtful that anyone would miss someone like Kohlrabi.

No one would remember what happened to him or all the others soon enough anyways.

The mask depicted no emotions whatsoever, and the golden slits were unchanging. But the face underneath was more than capable of expressing determined rage underneath as his fists clenched. In his line of sight, in the very direction he stood was the pathway to the headquarters for the Pride Troopers.

 _I am coming for you all next._

. . .


	2. The Ice Queen

**A/N** : And now, the introduction of the _ice queen_. To anyone who gets rubbed the wrong way from first impressions, don't worry. You'll come to like her, I promise. And of course, first appearances of some of our familiar heroes...

…

* * *

Crime never stopped, save for the moment where everyone and everything had been temporarily erased during the events of the tournament.

But even then, all things considered, that was equivalent to a blink and you miss it moment. Albeit, a frightened and panicked split-second moment with an abundance of impulsive decisions made then and there - someone had even thought to throw a chair at a store window and rob it, apparently unaware that neither they or the items grabbed would last - which were thankfully cleaned up once all was restored. The city-like planet of Netfiss and its citizens appeared to breathe a collective sigh of relief, ever grateful for the kindness of their fellow universe's restoration wish. For a time, there even seemed to peace. Turns out, total annihilation without the promise of any sort of afterlife seemed to make people think twice on their entire outlook on life.

Unfortunately, said peace was not meant to last.

That much was anticipated by those who lived and worked in Metabala, a particular crime-ridden section of Netfiss; it was an impoverished region where the gangs thrived, and if there wasn't a dealing going on then there was a robbery, or vice versa. But, oddly enough, it was typical fool-hardy felons with normal blackmarket trade weapons. No mad scientists unleashing hellish creations, no zealot wannabe gods wreaking havoc, nothing out of the ordinary in terms of villainy.

It was the last place where the N.C.P.D, or the Netfiss City Police Department, could have some semblance of usefulness.

 _Ah ha._ Didn't anticipate that, did you? Not to worry, not an uncommon reaction. These days the majority of citizens had all but forgotten of the regular law enforcement, ever since the formation of the spectacular spandex clad Pride Troopers. They were a welcomed change for the people too, for the cops at that time had been knee deep in corruption - many were paid off to look the other way when a prison breakout went down, or evidence was conveniently lost before a notorious gang leader could undergo a trial. They had settled in the comfortable routine of occasionally doing the bare minimum to stop crime, and the few good newbies that came along either eventually turned into a bad apple themselves or were gotten rid of permanently. But not the Pride Troopers, no, they were an incorruptible force of good moral that proudly stood for justice; the mere thought of being persuaded by means of bribery was unthinkable.

Naturally, and understandably so, the citizens of Universe 11 have favored them from the beginning.

For some long time members of the force, that suited them just fine. The shift in attention left the big name villains turning towards the colorful posse of super-powered freaks as opposed to the regular folks like themselves, which meant no more dreaded calls of mecha-machine attacking the city and which unfortunate souls at the station had to take turns flipping a coin to decide who was being sent out to essentially waste bullets and time. Those issues could now be referred to the team that could outpose an enthusiastic high school cheerleader squad, thank you very much.

The N.C.P.D, or the good guys in it at least, weren't here to be liked; they didn't take the job because of potential parade dedication or getting their faces branded on crappy cereal boxes to encourage kids to eat healthy. No, they were here to do some good, even if it was miniscule as compared to saving an entire city from some freak with a laser shooting three-headed pet.

Truth be told, it was a real shame about that shift in attention and trust from them to the Pride Troopers, because of the timing. Around that same time that just about everyone else had given up on them, one person didn't.

She was a tour de force, a mega tidal wave that intended to sweep away all dirt and corruption in the forgotten law enforcement system. And she did exactly that, right from the get go. Her reputation is a formidable one; young but fierce, a will of steel with wits to match. At first glance she looks like a typical prudish nightmare with a take-no-shit attitude when put in charge. A human woman with dark skin and black hair tied back tightly, resting bitch face, and doesn't look like someone who takes a joke well.

This is Captain Jin Tonic - and right now she's going to give the Pride Troopers hell.

"I don't care if the Metabola crimelords stand outside my station with signs asking you guys to prom - I'm _not_ letting any of you on these grounds; you have just about 98% of this galaxy all to yourselves to flock about. For once in your egotistical lives, can you entrust my own men to handle this small section of one planet?" she proclaimed, standing upright with her hands flat on her desk.

Perhaps it should be reworded that, in the ten years since first joining the force and quickly rising in the ranks, she's always given them hell. But this day in particular appears to be an exceptionally unfriendly day. No one has forgotten the events of the tournament, but rather than look at it with merely a sense of gratefulness for how it turned out as a whole, she was keen on focusing on the smaller details - the sheer arrogance, the haughty foolishness, and even the regrettable harsh things spoken then.

Whatever reluctant trust she had previously given them was now being promptly drawn back. Never before had she been so territorial of the area surrounding her precinct, and so a conversation like this had never been an issue. But if there was one thing that this captain was notorious for, it was her unforgiving final decisions and her ability to damn well make sure they proceed as such.

Needless to say, this was going to be a delicate situation for the three Pride Troopers that had willingly decided to breach a conversation with her.

"It isn't that we don't trust you or the capabilities of your men." Toppo, leader of the Pride Troopers and soon to be God of Destruction, was the one that voluntarily stepped up to the plate in response. "That is far from it; in fact, without your efforts there would have never been such an extraordinary reformation in the universe's police force."

A little bit of ego pleasing can certainly go a long way. But even when doing so, the great leader spoke about it with such genuine high esteem like a proud father.

He continued; "Which is why I propose that we all join forces as a unified front for justice, we could accomplish great things by working together."

Standing to his immediate right was General Kahseral, who nodded along to his superior's words before adding in himself; "It doesn't make sense for all of us to be divided as two leagues - the Pride Troopers and the N.C.P.D. - when we all fight for the same causes. It's not a competition, wanting to do good and protecting law abiding citizens."

The expression on Jin's face could be best described as unreadable; while no longer as harsh as it was a moment ago, that wasn't to say she was necessarily convinced either. But hey, if at the very least she was listening and contemplating on the thought of it, that certainly progress. So was not being immediately kicked out of her office. Or not even being let through the door of the station in the first place, with her men aiming their weapons and awaiting her word to fire with the threat of all-out civil war. Not that the last mentioned one was a realistic risk… or was it?

Still, all issues set aside, it was a valid point. The whole heroic business wasn't meant to be taken as a _literal_ business with rivaling factors. In fact, the two forces had worked together plenty of times beforehand. Albeit, begrudgingly. But nothing was ever extended beyond icy professionalism conducted on her end.

It was being considered. That was more than enough, as far as Toppo could tell. He'd had plenty of experience in that department of changing minds, getting people to open up. After all, despite her intimidating presence, as it stands Jin was hardly the most difficult challenge. ( See, at least you could _converse_ with her and get more than one word responses. Unlike someone else. ) Feeling confident about the bridging of this alliance, Toppo decided to sell one final point.

"The citizens of Metabala would benefit especially, no longer having to wait on just your force."

" _What?"_

Uh oh.

Internally, he probably recognized that wrong choice of word seconds too late as it left his mouth. _Just_ her force? From the arched brow and quizzical, darkening expression on her face - hell, even a blind man could probably read the room - that wasn't quite the right way to go about things with her.

" _Just_ my force?" she repeated, deadpanned. Continuing, her voice slowly escalated. "As if to say that we're not good enough? That we're incapable of dealing with crime as you all do? Is that what you mean?"

From an outside perspective watching in from a safe distance, this was somewhat amusing because of the exaggerated height difference. The captain was a petite woman, who appeared even smaller when confronting the Team Leader who was attempting to handle her like a bomb as delicate as an eggshell. But as entertaining of a sight as this may appear for outsiders, those unfortunately trapped in the room couldn't quite agree on that notion.

"I mean, if _you_ wanna deal with… oh I dunno, say, the mad scientist dude with a full-fledged army of super sized killer cyborgs with heat seeking missiles yourself then by all means. I personally think you can handle it by yourself."

This time another voice had piped in. This was the Speed Warrior, Dyspo, who was making one of his notorious sly remarks with his hands raised playfully in defense. With how fast Jin whipped her head around to glare at him, perhaps this was one of those opportunities to be grateful for said extraordinary speed abilities. Clearly, the humor was lost. Or never found to begin with. Even Toppo spared a small, disappointed glance at his colleague; as if to remind the hare that there was a warning conversation earlier about this - something along the lines of _let me do the talking_ and _Jin is not an easily humored person_ \- but it seems none of those words were absorbed.

"Wouldn't you like to know what I'm capable of." she started, scowling deeply. A single step forward had been taken from her before Toppo intervened, a giant hand placed before her and stopping her in her tracks.

"Enough." he ordered, although Jin's furious glare towards Dyspo was unwavering. "This isn't what we came for, Captain."

Taking a step back and a moment to compose herself, Jin was now right back to the demeanor she originally wore the moment they first arrived; icy and very much unwelcoming, but her eyes aflame with finality. "I recognize the importance of your little proposal, and I'll take it into light consideration. But as it stands, as far I'm concerned, none of you are qualified to stand here and lecture me with this offer about teamwork after witnessing your performance in that tournament. Why don't you save it for someone who needs it, like that Grey character? Speaking of which, where is he? Off isolating himself off-worlds once more to polish that bruised ego of his?"

"Hey come on now!" Dyspo reacted visibly, on the immediate defense.

It takes balls to criticize those who fought their hardest during a multiverse tournament that was, quite literally, a life or death situation.

Then again, said pair of balls was also required on a task that required facing off against every single crimelord who previously got away with every offense with little to no consequence. Not to mention, at the cost of losing various friends and being constantly threatened with her life should these prosecuted individuals ever manage to break free from prison. ( _If,_ she would always retort dryly with mocking eyes towards them. _If you ever get out._ )

"Jiren has been working harder than anyone I know to make amends. He is immensely apologetic about how he acted beforehand, and you have no right to criticize him so harshly." Toppo also came to the immediate defense of his friend, especially since he obviously couldn't defend himself at the moment. She was right about one thing though. Jiren was indeed offworlds, although it was for a far different reason than her accusation.

"Regardless," Jin continued, more or less outright ignoring what he'd just said. "You can forget about any early pre-orders for additional spandex suits to join this little cheer squad of yours."

"Dammit. Why does everyone always go for the uniforms?" Kahseral mused aloud, shaking his head in dismay. It wasn't like he was wrong to wonder about that; it seemed like the quickest jabs from villainous fiends were always directed towards their appearances, much like childish bullies would.

This time, she shot a quick glare back at him. It lasted a second or so, before turning her attention towards all three of them as she directed; "I'll think on your words, but no promises. Now get the hell out of my office. _Now."_

. . .

* * *

The station itself was bustling with activities; from escorting the daily thugs and punks into temporary cells, said individuals yelling angrily and making empty threats the entire way, to the shuffling of random case files and paperwork. The scene looked like something out of a stereotypical crime movie, with the majority of these cops running off of half-empty cups of coffee and extinguished cigarettes. Besides just being busy, it took a lot of self-restraint for these men not to gape awkwardly at the presence of three notorious Pride Troopers being right here at their so-called _humble_ second home.

Some idolized them, as normal citizens would. But these guys were sensible about their environment, and knew better than to gush openly about them at the risk of being overheard by their boss. Others had a look that was less welcoming, probably having the same outlook and assumptions as their captain as well that they were here to steal their territory. Most attempted to maintain a distraction by focusing on their work, trying to ignore the thoughts about the likelihood that somehow, _somehow_ whatever just went down in that office was inevitably going to come back at them.

It was a chaotic vibe, to say the least.

The three men were less than ten feet away from the door they'd just exited, when Dyspo had decided to open his mouth once more - purposely loud, as if hopeful she'd hear.

"What the hell's her problem?" the hare inquired angrily, arms crossed. His ears were drooping ever so slightly, never a fan of being blatantly yelled at nor watching his teammates more or less get roasted without any repercussions whatsoever. It was especially infuriating to see that done to his most revered leader. Yet Toppo appeared unbothered, shrugging it off with a strangely sympathetic outlook.

"Dyspo, you know why." he replied in a low, soft voice. The tone seemed to change from tense frustration to melancholy.

There was a brief pause, and an aggravated sigh from the younger trooper. "Yeah, I know. I know. But it's been so long…"

That sentence trailed off, never finishing itself. It was preferable this way, avoiding a painful subject such as that.

"As far as she's concerned, she'll only continue to see us as responsible." Kahseral concluded, maintaining a low voice unlike his friend. After all, the odds were even if she didn't personally hear this conversation herself, someone was bound to snitch directly to her thereafter. And Belmod knows, she wouldn't be pleased to be told that the Pride Troopers were gossiping about her. "Understandable. It's unresolved grief and… she's not entirely wrong to do so."

Both Toppo and Dyspo nodded in agreement. After that, nothing more was said on the subject.

It seems that there was nothing more that could be said to begin with.

"Wait!"

Luckily, they weren't anywhere near the door when the distinctive voice called out from behind. Somewhat astonished, they took perfect care not to give that away on their expressions as they all turned around to see the captain storming down after them. She looked pissed, but then again, that was her everyday demeanor. But if the team members had the gift of shared telepathy, they probably would've realized all three had the exact same thought then and there; _Now what?_

Jin stopped a few feet before them, beside herself with her arms crossed. Closing her eyes, she let out a reluctant sigh like a kid that was being forced to get along with her schoolmates after being lectured by her parents. Once opening them, that violet pair of eyes had a different emotion on them.

"You want to consider some form of a… what was it, team-up? Let's put it to the test." In her hand she purposely dangled a set of keys, one of which was for her car. "I just got word about a body being found along the Metabala border - so it's fair game for both of us, fifty fifty odd chances one of us would've found it first anyways. It's not worth bickering over land properties like bitter medieval lords."

With that said, she moved briskly past them and started ahead by a few paces.

Stopping when she realized they weren't following immediately, she glanced back. "Well, are you coming or what? This is your one chance to prove me otherwise. Besides -"

Turning back, they couldn't see the look her disturbed look of worry written all over her features.

"- Not only is it not our first incident, we're starting to think this might have something to do with you guys too."

. . .


End file.
